


Red Sun

by catchthatpigeon



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Boromir Lives, F/M, I've never done a gender neutral reader insert fanfiction before so please be patient with me, M/M, Reader is an elf, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 23:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchthatpigeon/pseuds/catchthatpigeon
Summary: So, this has been in the works for quite sometime. Originally this was going to be a short one-shot, but I felt that this was better off as an actual series. Anyways, Long ass footnotes ahead, so please prepare yourselves.Note: Unless stated other wise, anything in Sindarin has been taken from a normalized Sindarin and Noldorin dictionary. My Sindarin is very basic and some statements can and most likely will be rough sounding to those who understand it better. Please understand that I am trying my best and would always appreciate constructive criticism so that I may better myself.[1] "Easui, mellon." [trans. "Easy, friend."] I'm not quite sure how accurate "easui" is. I couldn't find the term "easy" or anything similar to it (ie. "calm") in any Sindarin dictionaries, so I opted to use a translator. I did cross check a few translators and some didn't have the word registered and the rest gave me each a different answers. So, I opted to just pick one in random. If you know the correct term for this, I'd appreciate it a lot if you did me the favor of informing me![2] “Post.” [trans. "Halt" or "rest."][3] "Îdh." [trans. "Rest."][4] Boromir's appearance. Personally, I like to imagine Boromir with Sean Bean's features. However, I do have a knack for blending both book lore with movie lore, hence the dark hair and the grey eyes. If you prefer him with the lighter shade of brown that is present in the film, you may do so. I try not to put too much emphasis or write vivid, Stephen King-esque descriptions about something unless it's relevant or super important to the story. In this case, the exact shade of Boromir's hair and eyes is not neither of those things.[5] Athelas, also known as kingsfoil, is the weed that Aragorn used to slow down the influences of the dark magic that was influencing Frodo's Morgul-wound. It was also used by Aragorn in the Houses of Healing to combat the effects of the Black Breath that plagues Faramir, Éowyn, and Merry.[6] I had a discussion with my sister about this bit. For the sake of the story I've decided to ignore the arrow that pierced his heart, and opted to keep the arrows that hit him in shoulder and gut area (seeing that they're more manageable to deal with medieval magic and magic). I've decided that the Reader possesses the Maiar strain, which would mean that they're most likely related to Lúthien. It was only through this magic that they were able to stabilize Boromir enough to keep him from dying. Once it was safe enough to move him without the risk of an ambush, both Aragorn and Reader used both medicine and magic to suture his wounds and start combating both any poison that the Uruk Hai arrows most likely carried.As for why the Reader is making him drink Willow Bark - all type of Willow Bark have varying levels of salicin, which is very similar to the active ingredient in aspirin. So basically they're giving him a painkiller and an anti-inflammatory. I strongly advice you to research Willow Bark and other herbal supplements and medicines before taking them, as well as talking to your primary doctor before using any of them.In addition, making Boromir walk up and down along the river bank is to prevent any blood clots from forming, which could potentially be fatal.[7] There's been some debate over whether or not the elves in the Tolkien world need sleep. Some even claim that Tolkien contradicts himself in his writing. In The Two Towers: Riders of Rohan: page 31, Legolas was resting his mind "in the strange paths of elvish dreams" while he was basically walking about, with eyes open in daylight. However, in The Two Towers: Riders of Rohan: page 49, the book described Legolas laying motionless with his eyes open, while in deep dream. So the fact that his eyes remained open COULD signify that elves don't go into the same deep sleep as men do. Personally, I like to believe that Tolkien wasn't contradicting himself in his writing, but rather describing the nature of elven sleep in two separate occasions.[8] Remember at the end of The Return of the King in which Elrond, Lady Galadriel, Gandalf, Bilbo and Frodo board a ship? That ship sails to the Undying Lands. The Undying Lands have multiple names, including Valar, Aman, the Blessed Realm, and Ancient West. It's where the majority elves sail to eventually (save for those who chose to stay behind in Middle Earth and eventually fade).





	Red Sun

The rather violent  _ crackle  _ of fire jolted you out of your meditative state, and you found yourself jerking back with a soft gasp. Blinking rapidly, you gazed around the camp with bleary eyes before they landed upon your companion’s slumbering form. Groaning softly you rose to your feet, and with stiff legs and hips made your way over to Boromir’s side. Kneeling down, you brushed the back of your fingers against his forehead. His skin was cool, but soaked with sweat; and it was then that you knew that his fever had broken.

Sighing softly, you allowed your shoulders to drop. The tension left your body in one swift motion, only for weariness to seep in. With tired eyes you glanced north to where the grand statues of Argonath loomed above you. Easing yourself into a seated position on the rocky banks of Parth Galen, you pulled your knees to your chest and leaned your head on your crossed arms. To the south of you, the Falls of Rauros roared violently, and you found that the sound was quickly prompting you to close your eyes.

However, your peace was quickly shattered when the body beside you groaned. You opened your eyes to see Boromir rousing with an attempt to sit up.

_ “Easui, mellon,” [1]  _ you crooned, placing your gloved hand over the swordsman’s chest.  _ “Post.” [2] _

You gently pushed him back down, mindful of his injuries.

“Where... “ he yielded to the gentleness of your hand, body far too weak to fight back. His head fell back onto the burlap sack, padded with moss and shrubbery. “Where are…” his question died down to a whisper as his head lolled from side to side, and you found yourself moving closer and shushing him. Your fingers stroked the clammy skin of his face before carding through his damp and matted hair.

_ “Îdh.”[3] _

The next time the man of Gondor roused, was two nights later, when the fires of your small camp flickered and danced in the darkness, and the river rushed endlessly. Like the first time around, it was the light shift in fabric, the grinding of the rocks beneath his form, and the groan that slipped through his clenched teeth and trembling lips.

Within seconds you were at his side, holding him down with one hand placed upon his uninjured shoulder while the other brushed the dark locks off his face [4].

“Gentle yourself, Boromir, lest you intend to undo my work,” you spoke, tone soft yet firm as you rain your fingers over his wrapped chest. Much to your relief, the bandages remained dry. “You are safe, for the danger has passed.”

“Where are…” he rasped as you eased him into a seated position. Before he could speak, you silenced him with the offer of drink. 

“Rain water,” you informed him, before guiding the waterskin to his lips. “Drink.”

The parched swordsman gulped the water down with gusto. Several times did you lay your hand over his, keeping him from choking himself. Once sated, he dropped his hand; his grip on the waterskin eased, allowing you to pry it out of his hands.

“The others?” he managed moments later.

You watched him, [eye color] eyes narrowing. At your look of careful scrutiny and deep thought, the man broke. His face cracked, and the sight of his guilt crashed over you in one, strong wave. His brows furrowed, and the anguish in his soul reflected in his grey eyes [4].

“Please,” Boromir pleaded.

However, your silence did not yield. You continued to regard the man with a thoughtful gaze before standing up to rummage through your pack, only to produce your stock of willow bark. The elves of Lothlórien had been kind enough to supply you with a full stock. As you busied yourself with the remaining of the rainwater, a small pot that had been left behind in the camp, and the bark, you begun the retelling of what happened after Boromir had blacked out.   
  
“Shortly after you lost consciousness, the remaining of the Uruk Hai took off with Merry and Pippin, most likely assuming that one of them carried the ring. I encouraged Aragorn to take Legolas and Gimli and pursue the remainder of the horde while I stayed back to tend to your injuries,” you explained. “It has been about a week since the ambush, and only a few days since your infection induced fever broke.”

Your voice trailed off before you glanced back at the man with a certain fear in your eyes. “I did not know if I could save you, Boromir. Even with the aid of  _ athelas [5]  _ and songs.” Silence filled the space between you as you turned back to the water,before feeding the campfire more wood to keep the flames going and even hotter. You swallowed, trying to dislodge the discomfort in your throat. 

A large part of you knew that there was still one more question left both unasked and unanswered. If was no secret that Boromir had more than once succumbed to the One Ring’s charm. In fact, he’d even announced during the council meeting that the ring should be taken back to Minas Tirith to use against the enemy.

“What of Frodo and the ring?” he managed after a moment, voice trembling and cracking. You closed your eyes and curled your hands into fists. Over the duration of your travel, you’d grown fond of the halflings; for they were such pure beings who found comfort in the simplest of things.

“[Your name], I need to--” Boromir pushed, his tone rising with his anxiety. “I need to know--”

“I do not know!” you cried out, turning once more to face him. Your own anxieties bled through to your face, despite your best efforts to keep yourself together. “When we returned to camp with your body, Sam and Frodo were nowhere in sight. Legolas and Aragorn scouted the area for any signs of them but it was for naught. They must have traveled by water, for one of the boats were missing.”

At your response, the man of Gondor remained silent save for the single sob that managed to slip through his lips. A frown graced your face. In an attempt to comfort the man, you reached out to lace your fingers with his, and much to your relief, he did not reject your display of support. Scooting closer to him, you gingerly pulled the grieving man into your embrace, and with a single gentle touch, guided his head to rest in the junction of your neck and shoulder.

In the horizon, the sun had began its descent into the mountains. You were reluctant to leave Boromir’s side, but the willow bark tea will help his pain and any inflammation, and you were adamant that he eat something. And after a brief walk down the bank and then back, you urged Boromir back into where he had been resting and sung to the man [6]. 

Your songs of remorse and forgiveness, of hurt and healing had been laced with the comfort that came with feeling secure. And so, with the aid of the warmth you and the man shared, and the weariness in Boromir’s body, your songs lulled him into deep slumber.

When the pale moon and your beloved stars graced the night sky, you found yourself unable to leave his side, and thus, with the moon and the stars as your only witnesses, you continued to sing your lullabies until the embers in your campfire died and the first morning lights chased away the dark.

* * *

“You never sleep.”

It was a statement, more than a question, based on an observation. Not glancing up from your careful work in changing his wrappings, you tilted your head to the side.   
  
“We elves do not sleep the way you men do [7],” you replied, placing the old wraps with new ones. “The bodies of the  _ eldar  _ are not like the ones of man, for we are able to rest our minds while our bodies remain active. We have the ability to… to dream while awake, and while our bodies do need rest, our minds do not enter a deep sleep - at least not the kind that your kind does.” Your brows furrowed in mild frustration, not quite sure if you had explained elven slumber correctly. You had never had to explain sleep to someone before.

Standing up with the soiled wrappings in tow, you made your way to the river bank where you washed and wrung the grime off the sullied fabric multiple times before returning to camp to boil them in herbs. Supplies had been limited, and while the you had anticipated that the fellowship would be faced with countless of hurdles and enemies, and that someone was bound to get hurt, you foolishly had not anticipated injuries as grave as Boromir’s. 

While the bandages boiled, you helped ease the swordsman into a seated position, propping him up against one of the boat’s you had managed to haul up ashore and flip over.

“So you… You do not need to be lying down to sleep,” he clarified before accepting the cooked rabbit haunch from you. The meat had cooled significantly, but there was still some warmth to it. 

“No, I do not.”

And with that, a silence blanketed the space between you. The smell of sickness had long left Boromir, however, he still had quite some healing to do before you could join up with Aragorn and the rest. Alas, there was a different kind of dis-ease that hung in the air; the kind that plagued the heart and the mind.

As days and nights rolled into weeks, you watched Boromir, noted the changes in his demeanor. On most moments of consciousness, he kept to himself; yet there was a silent obedience to him. He answered your questions regarding his pain, and he allowed you to move his limbs around as you tested his mobility, he sat silently as you palpitated his chest, and he walked when you asked him to. Eating was a whole different matter - on a good day, he’d eat whatever you offered him, but he never ate as much as you’d hoped.

Boromir’s state left you feeling a certain feeling of helplessness; a feeling of inadequacy. You were a healer of the body, not of the mind nor spirit. For it was rare among your kind to feel such blue emotions, and such weariness was easily remedied by sailing to the Blessed Realm, where the Valar would watch after them [8]. Alas, he was a man, and very few of those were invited to cross the sea to the Valar.

“You must eat,” you encouraged him, desperation  fraying at your tone when you noted the barely touched lembas bread.

You had been trying to conserve the lembas bread by catching small game, and fish even. However, luck was not always at your side, and foraging was becoming harder with each passing day. You knew there was more deeper in the woods, but you never dared to stray far. 

“Why are you still here?” Boromir asked, ignoring both your question and the offered bread. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes seemed… sunken with dark bruises. “Why did you not go with him?”

The question caught you off guard, and your hand lowered. A small and bitter smiled graced your face.

“We have already lost one friend,” you said and placed the piece of lembas back in it’s leaf casing. “We couldn’t lose another one.” You blinked, feeling the moisture gathering at the corners of your eyes.

“But I-...” Before he could protest any further, you shook your head. Tears clung fiercely to your lashes. You knew what this was about.

“If you truly were sorry,” you bit out, “you’d stop  _ this.  _ We  _ will _ recover the little ones, and then we will do everything that we can to help Frodo get the ring to Mordor - even if we aren’t there with him. We  _ must,  _ Boromir. I cannot… I cannot watch you when you are like... ”

“I am trying, but I cannot cure you of this malady; at least not alone.”

_ Please, help me. _

The man said nothing, but rather he stared at you with wide eyes. Something heavy settled between the two of you, and you could bear it no long. Rising to your feet, you stepped away from the silent man, and returned to sit by the fire.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has been in the works for quite sometime. Originally this was going to be a short one-shot, but I felt that this was better off as an actual series. Anyways, Long ass footnotes ahead, so please prepare yourselves.
> 
> Note: Unless stated other wise, anything in Sindarin has been taken from a normalized Sindarin and Noldorin dictionary. My Sindarin is very basic and some statements can and most likely will be rough sounding to those who understand it better. Please understand that I am trying my best and would always appreciate constructive criticism so that I may better myself.
> 
> [1] "Easui, mellon." [trans. "Easy, friend."] I'm not quite sure how accurate "easui" is. I couldn't find the term "easy" or anything similar to it (ie. "calm") in any Sindarin dictionaries, so I opted to use a translator. I did cross check a few translators and some didn't have the word registered and the rest gave me each a different answers. So, I opted to just pick one in random. If you know the correct term for this, I'd appreciate it a lot if you did me the favor of informing me!
> 
> [2] “Post.” [trans. "Halt" or "rest."]
> 
> [3] "Îdh." [trans. "Rest."]
> 
> [4] Boromir's appearance. Personally, I like to imagine Boromir with Sean Bean's features. However, I do have a knack for blending both book lore with movie lore, hence the dark hair and the grey eyes. If you prefer him with the lighter shade of brown that is present in the film, you may do so. I try not to put too much emphasis or write vivid, Stephen King-esque descriptions about something unless it's relevant or super important to the story. In this case, the exact shade of Boromir's hair and eyes is not neither of those things.
> 
> [5] Athelas, also known as kingsfoil, is the weed that Aragorn used to slow down the influences of the dark magic that was influencing Frodo's Morgul-wound. It was also used by Aragorn in the Houses of Healing to combat the effects of the Black Breath that plagues Faramir, Éowyn, and Merry.
> 
> [6] I had a discussion with my sister about this bit. For the sake of the story I've decided to ignore the arrow that pierced his heart, and opted to keep the arrows that hit him in shoulder and gut area (seeing that they're more manageable to deal with medieval magic and magic). I've decided that the Reader possesses the Maiar strain, which would mean that they're most likely related to Lúthien. It was only through this magic that they were able to stabilize Boromir enough to keep him from dying. Once it was safe enough to move him without the risk of an ambush, both Aragorn and Reader used both medicine and magic to suture his wounds and start combating both any poison that the Uruk Hai arrows most likely carried.
> 
> As for why the Reader is making him drink Willow Bark - all type of Willow Bark have varying levels of salicin, which is very similar to the active ingredient in aspirin. So basically they're giving him a painkiller and an anti-inflammatory. I strongly advice you to research Willow Bark and other herbal supplements and medicines before taking them, as well as talking to your primary doctor before using any of them.
> 
> In addition, making Boromir walk up and down along the river bank is to prevent any blood clots from forming, which could potentially be fatal.
> 
> [7] There's been some debate over whether or not the elves in the Tolkien world need sleep. Some even claim that Tolkien contradicts himself in his writing. In The Two Towers: Riders of Rohan: page 31, Legolas was resting his mind "in the strange paths of elvish dreams" while he was basically walking about, with eyes open in daylight. However, in The Two Towers: Riders of Rohan: page 49, the book described Legolas laying motionless with his eyes open, while in deep dream. So the fact that his eyes remained open COULD signify that elves don't go into the same deep sleep as men do. Personally, I like to believe that Tolkien wasn't contradicting himself in his writing, but rather describing the nature of elven sleep in two separate occasions.
> 
> [8] Remember at the end of The Return of the King in which Elrond, Lady Galadriel, Gandalf, Bilbo and Frodo board a ship? That ship sails to the Undying Lands. The Undying Lands have multiple names, including Valar, Aman, the Blessed Realm, and Ancient West. It's where the majority elves sail to eventually (save for those who chose to stay behind in Middle Earth and eventually fade).


End file.
